I Wish You Were Here
by Faye C. Marie
Summary: An Annabeth-centric songfic based on how she feels after Percy goes missing. Set at the beginning of SoN, right around the time Percy was running from the gorgons. Vanilla Twilight songfic for Skywriter5's contest.


**A/N: So, this is a Vanilla Twilight songfic I made for Skywriter5's Prompt Contest. It's a little late, but I just started writing it about a half hour ago. I really like the song, so I'm glad to be able to do a songfic for it. Annabeth may be a bit OOC. Read, review, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: *looks around frantically* Who, me? No, I don't own PJO or Vanilla Twilight. Those belong to Rick Riordan and Owl City, respectfully.**

**Summary: An Annabeth-centric songfic based on how she feels after Percy goes missing. Set at the beginning of SoN, right around the time Percy was running from the gorgons.**

**Rated: T for language mentions of drugs/alcohol, and suggestive themes.**

I Wish You Were Here

It's been two months since he went missing. Eight weeks without his smile. Fifty-six days lacking his happy-go-lucky attitude. One thousand, three hundred forty-four hours devoid of his cheesy romance lines you secretly love to hear. Eighty thousand, six hundred forty minutes where you'd start laughing at someone's joke, and when you look to your side, realize he wasn't there to laugh with you and get sad all over again. Four million, eight hundred thirty-eight thousand, four hundred seconds without his kiss. No matter how your child-of-Athena brain calculated the time, you couldn't come to grips with the fact he was gone.

You missed him so much.

But you couldn't let the rest of the campers know how much you were yearning for your lost boyfriend. You were Annabeth, official architect of Olympus, daughter of Athena. Everyone expected you to be tough and strong, even if he was missing. You needed to lead; you couldn't barricade yourself away from society. People would think something was wrong, and as a leader, you had to maintain composure even when you were about to fall apart.

So, you mourned the loss of him when no one could possibly be looking. At night, when he'd most likely be getting into bed, with the stars just spreading across the sky, you'd lie awake and miss him, thinking about all of your past adventures with him. Needless to say, you would be rather tired and unfocused the next day.

Some of the Hecate children noticed you stumbling around camp one day, and took you back to their cabin. They believed you weren't sleeping well due to stress (which may have played apart of the no-sleep thing), and poured you a large tall glass of some clear, fizzy liquid. They coaxed you to drink it, which you refused to do until they showed you the bottle. The label read _Atmosphere: The Relaxing Beverage_, and you seriously doubted it was a potion. You ran out of there, leaving your untouched drink behind, as soon as they were distracted by an exploding cauldron.

When you were able to drift off into sleep, safely and soundly, you'd end up dreaming about being in his cabin. Almost every night before he went missing, you'd sneak over to the Poseidon cabin and try to surprise him. The surprise didn't work that often, but that didn't matter. You loved being with him, talking to him, teasing him, kissing his soft lips goodnight. On more than one occasion, you stayed overnight, most often in his bed. You were honestly surprised that Chiron hadn't caught you two together in there yet. When you woke up in the morning, his arms would be around you, so you'd have to wake him up when you needed to leave. You missed those nights (and his arms) more than anything.

One day, around the three week mark of his disappearance, you went to the camp store and bought a postcard. On it you wrote down everything you would say to him, as if he was just on vacation and not possibly fighting for his life in an enemy camp. You couldn't send it (you didn't know the address for the Roman camp, and even if you did, he wouldn't remember you anyways), so instead you kept it in one of your architecture books. You showed it to Thalia once, and she didn't get the sentimental value it held.

"Why did you even write the damn letter if you can't send it?" she had said, and you could tell she was questioning your sanity. You never did anything without a purpose; it was a rule you tried to follow as closely as possible, and had only broken a few times.

"Because I wish he was here," you explained with a sigh. Thalia had stared at you for a few minutes, then walked away, mumbling about how all the pressure had gone to your head or something.

Occasionally, you would go and sit on the beach, like what the two of you had done so many times before. He had created a bit of a hideout with the sand and a tree, so the cleaning harpies would be less likely to find you two out after curfew. You stayed there all night once, the sky changing from navy with twinkling stars to a light blue color, but it wasn't the same as when he had been with you. The only real difference between the two times was that he wasn't with you, whispering quietly as the sky changed colors. Who knew that could make all the difference?

Sometimes, when you were alone and it was quiet, it didn't hurt as bad. It was like when he would go and take his naps (which he needed to do since his Achilles curse made him tired all the time) and you would work on the blueprints for Olympus. Your designs were pretty much finished, but there were still things to do. You could keep yourself occupied for awhile, but when you would glance at your hands, the sadness would seep back in. The spaces between your fingers reminded you of him, since his hands seemed to fit into there perfectly.

Eventually your old ways of relaxing didn't work anymore. Running, reading, sparring in the arena…They all reminded you of him. Of how he used to tease you when you came back from a jog all sweaty, and then splash you with of water to clean you off. Of how he would steal your book and hide it, and then refuse to tell where it was hidden until you kissed him. Of how he would insist on being your partner, and beat you almost every time. You tried painting with Rachel, (who you had become rather close to after she became the Oracle), and that worked for awhile until you noticed how the ocean you were painting was the exact shade of green his eyes were. You had yet to find a new hobby.

Two days ago, Leo had informed the counselors at the staff meeting that the flying boat may take an additional month to complete. Apparently some of the wood on the deck had been split by a falling mast; no one was hurt, but the accident had been blamed on the Hephaestus cabin's curse. You had blanched at the idea of an extended period without your boyfriend. Six months was torture enough—to add another month on top of that seemed unbearable. You had barely slept in the last two days, memories of his disappearance flooding your mind. You had tossed and turned all night, feeling as if the nostalgia had frosted you over, as if it had sunk in to your bones.

Last night, the pain of the loss had been so bad, you had gone out on the Athena cabin's porch and sat down on the stairs. The smell of the vanilla perfume he had gotten you for your last birthday filled the air; the twinkling twilight loomed over you like a tent. You kept replaying memories in your head, because besides the ache it brought you, you didn't feel so alone.

You felt as if he was sitting next to you.

You felt like he had never gone away.

Every time you blinked, a new memory was drug up. First, you were nursing him and spoon feeding him ambrosia while he drooled on his pillow. Then, you were standing in a dirty bathroom, soaking wet while he was completely dry. That first Capture the Flag game where you set him up—which led to him being claimed. You were volunteering to go on his quest with him, calling him Seaweed Brain for the first time. The two of you were going on the "Thrill Ride of Love"—you wouldn't admit it, but it was one of your favorite memories of that quest. You were sobbing in his arms at the bottom of the sea, after hearing the Siren's song. You were dancing with him in Westover hall, then the garden of the gods, playing with the streak of gray in his hair that resembled your own. You were kissing him in Mt. St. Helens when you thought he was going to die. Those two weeks after the explosion, when everyone had thought he was dead (which, now that you thought about it, wasn't so bad as what was happening now) and you knew he was alive. Him crashing his own funeral, and you hugging him out of relief that he was alive. Asking Rachel for help—one of the hardest things you've ever done, since you didn't like the idea of him liking someone else. You were talking to him on Half-Blood Hill, as he forced the last line of the prophesy out of you—you're still confused on who it meant—Luke or Percy. You were watching him after he bathed in the Styx; he seemed older, tougher than before. You were lying on a lawn chair on a balcony, staring at him when he revealed his Achilles spot. You were kissing him again, this time in the dining pavilion, and then being thrown in the lake—which lead to your first (and certainly not last) underwater kiss. The year of peace afterwards, which ended the second he disappeared. You shook your head at that memory—you didn't want to think about that now.

_When Hera decides to be nicer and bring him home,_ you think to yourself, _and when the burden of the latest prophesy is lightened, I'll smack him so hard he won't know what happened to him. That'll teach him about running off. _You smile at that, and then take a deep breath. The sky tastes clean and fresh, like something new had been ejected into the air.

You decide to put the memories of the past behind you. It would be the best for the camp, and you needed to get out of your funk, as Rachel would put it. But you promise yourself—no, swear to yourself—that you won't forget him. He will come back from the Roman camp. He will remember you. And he will kiss you once again.

If you could talk to him right now, (or, if he happened to be dead—which you didn't like to think about—tell his past self) you'd most likely whisper this in his ear:

"Oh Percy, I wish you were here."

**A/N: And there we have it! Make sure you review and tell me what you think!**


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